


Listen Before I Go

by Melancholic_lotus13



Category: Bleach
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Based on a Billie Eilish Song, Bitter Ichigo, Depowered Kurosaki Ichigo, During the seventeen months after Kurosaki lost his powers, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt Kurosaki Ichigo, Hurt No Comfort, Kurosaki Ichigo Needs a Hug, Kurosaki Ichigo-centric, Kurosaki Yuzu needs a Hug, Lonely Kurosaki Ichigo, Major Character Death in chapter 2 only, No Romance, Possible Character Death, Post-Winter War (Bleach), Sad, Slight Poetry, This is why we can’t have good things, alternate endings, inaccurate Japanese schooling, sad Ichigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melancholic_lotus13/pseuds/Melancholic_lotus13
Summary: After the Winter War, Ichigo loses not only his powers but his friends as well. He's slowly losing himself in his thoughts and wishes that things were different. He attempts to go through many different thoughts and his own emotions. But he may not have much time to sort them.This is a one shot unless readers want more
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/emotional pain, Nonexistent - Relationship
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has possible character death. Lines that end with a / mean it's the end of a stanza. There are five stanzas. Yes, I wrote this poem. I am not sorry for the tears you shed if you shed any. Hope you enjoy.

The assignment was to write a poem for English class. Ichigo hadn't thought much about it, thinking of how to structure it. The teacher said not to worry about the rhyme scheme since there's such a thing as free verse poetry. Ichigo believed it would be easy. There was no rhyme or meter set for them either.

Ichigo sits at his desk, writing the poem right then and there. It's funny, he's able to spill his feelings into the poem better than he would ever be able to verbally or physically. The former shinigami wears a ghost of a smile once he finishes. He rereads it, changes up a bit of the lines and makes sure that he spelt the words correctly. He places it in the folder and lies down in his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Memories play in his head, of the battles, of the deaths, of everything he went through and learned.

He never did get any answers from his father.

Too late now; he doesn't have a reason to know.

It's funny.

His entire life is a complete joke.

Kurosaki Ichigo was a Shinigami, or better known as a Shinigami Substitute (he could have been more seeing as his father is a full blown Shinigami).

_Tap-tap-tapping._

Silence. It's been his new comfort.

The house is quiet. _Where are his sisters? Where is his dad?_ No loud laughter, pans knocking against each other, or the sounds of pitter-patter of feet. Nothing. He's completely alone in the house.

Can he still call the house home?

_ "Sorry," _

Does he have the right to apologize? Surely not. He shouldn't even apologize for an observation.

No. He's not the one apologizing. They should be the ones to apologize. Ichigo didn't do anything wrong! He didn't do anything wrong! All this? He did it for them.

So, no, he shouldn't be the one to apologize. This is not him apologizing. It's them.

_ You say but where were you? _

That's right. They've apologized constantly. They apologized with each excuse they made. They apologized for some insignificant reasons, but where have they been? _Where are they? Why did they leave him?_ Surely, he can't be so useless now?

Surely, he isn't that easy to get rid of.

He thought wrong.

They are never there when he needs them, needed them. He always fought himself for what they needed. But, was that really their fault when he threw himself head on? Some of the times, it was his fault. Yet, the whole Aizen thing? It was not in his interests until they made it. Why couldn't Aizen have just directed his tantrum to the reapers and left Karakura out of it?

_ How many times do I have to cry blue? _

When was the last time he cried? He can't remember.

Ichigo stares at the page, frowning at his writing.

He's cried recently, right? Breaking down in the shower?

He's screamed and punched things until his knuckles came away bloody.

No, he never once shed a tear during those moments. He's screamed and acted like a puppet with its strings cut, but not once did he shed a tear.

Everything has become dull. After a while, he can no longer feel the pain of his fists after the skin has broken along with a bone. He just keeps going. The one time his dad was here, he had to lose control over his emotions. He remembers the fear in his father's dark eyes when he stumbled into his room, blood all over his clothes from his own hands and messily wrapping them up without a blink.

_ Listen before I go, _

Would anyone listen to him? Surely, after everything, they'd listen to at least one thing he has to say, right?

Can they even take him seriously?

Ichigo presses the heels of his palms against his eyes, feeling the familiar stinging sensation. His throat burns as his chest clenches. Why? Why is going to cry? Hasn't he cried enough?

Apparently not. So, how come his first response is to cry? He thought he left this reaction behind when his mother died.

Mother.

_Rain. Hollow. Weight. Blood. Blood. Oh there was so much blood. His fault. Not his fault. His fault. No matter what anyone says. His fault._

_ discarded like trash after being praised a hero./ _

How? How is it that he worked so hard to become powerful enough to protect his family only to lose it all? He had worked so hard! Yet here he is. Sitting in his room and wallowing in his own sorrows and woes. Ichigo never wanted to be a hero. He didn't want the title. He wants to protect his sisters and his friends! That was all! He didn't want to fight Aizen—he had wanted to opt out of it but the bastard dragged him in when he went after those he cared about! Fucking Urahara Kisuke used him as well! He let him!

They left him once he had no use. That hurt. No. It's infuriating. A burning emotion settles into its new home in the core of his chest.

With a glare and a shout, he grabs the soul reaper badge and threw it across the room.

_ "Sorry," _

Ichigo mutters to himself, closing his eyes with annoyance. Breathing in to refocus himself, he stares down at the paper. Only on the second stanza and he knows he's not finished. He's failed enough times.

No way he's going to fail this.

He's failed enough as it is.

Ichigo doesn't want to fail this year. He can't afford that and now, he doesn't have an excuse for his low grades. He isn't a Shinigami anymore and he can't skip class to fight Hollows. He can't fight anyone but regular people who piss him off. Why couldn't he lose his memories along with his powers? Wouldn't it have made all this easier?

_ You say but what am I now? _

The orange-haired male sighs, rubbing his forehead. He has to finish this.

Taking up the pencil, he sketches the words onto paper and brings the story to life. He knows that his teacher doesn't have a single clue about the significance of all the words. She will not understand the picture it paints, if he is lucky, she will see him taking a different approach on stories that never show what happens after the ending.

_ I was a hero but I don't know how— _

Yes, how? How had he been a hero? How had someone like himself, a delinquent, become known as a hero in the eyes of others? What had they been thinking when they came up with such a ridiculous notion?

Kurosaki Ichigo isn't a hero. His goal was only to keep his friends and family safe.

He wasn't aiming to be a hero. But that's what happened. He sacrificed himself time and time again for them.

Died twice.

_Or was it three?_

Ichigo doesn't remember. Too many things blend together. Too many times did he stare down death and ignore it, opting to save his friends and family. Too many times wondering if he should allow himself the freedom.

_ Tell me why, _

Yes. Why? Why was he hailed a hero? Why was he thrown aside afterwards? He had made so many more friends yet they left him behind. It's been half a year already. No one wishes to be around such a weak person—a shell of themselves.

Ichigo closes his eyes again and sighs. That was all he was good for, wasn't it?

_ Before my last goodbye./ _

Finishing the five stanza poem, he pushes away from the desk. Glancing at the clock, 7:45 p.m. shines brightly in its red glow. Should he say goodbye? He already has said goodbye. Why should he repeat himself?

There's no one to say goodbye to. They all left him.

He stretches, popping all of his stiff joints. He's going on a walk. There's no way he's going to keep himself cooped up in his room in such a desolate home.

Turning off the lights, he makes his way out of the house and locks the door.

_ Listen before I go, _

The fading sun shines and paints the world with orange hues. The shadows grow and stretch across the ground. They sing and reach out towards him, pleading for him to go home. They sense tragedy.

Ichigo ignores the silent pleas. He's calm and wishes to enjoy the nice weather and time of day. The male doesn't want to ruin the good mood he's on.

_ Well, the story never gets told after the battle.  _

He worked hard. He tried to pretend that none of what happened happened. That he was never a Shinigami. He attempted to pretend and no matter how hard he tried, he could not let go. He would watch his friends run out of the classroom, watch as they would quiet down when the term Shinigami crossed their lips, and watch as they pulled away.

Who had he been to them but a weapon? A tool that had no use once rusted.

The young teen looks over to an old woman with a little kid. He's met many souls during his time in Soul Society. He rarely spoke to them but he remembers the ones that he did. There's a sweet, old woman in the 70th district of Rakungai that would always cook for him and Rukia. Someday he may see her again, although who knows whether he'd remember her in his death. He hopes he does. There are some ghosts who die and lose memories of who they are. Although, wouldn't it be better to not have any connections to the Shinigami?

_ What happens to the powerless hero? _

In many stories, the after story of a hero is never told. The hero who sacrificed everything. They either die off or they aren't brought up until they regain their powers. It's sad. And when the story continues, it never talks about the days of in between moments.

Sometimes the reader doesn't even question these moments. They continue with the story and ignore what had happen. They never wonder about the pain and hardships of the hero after being tossed aside. They never think about if they met new people, kept to themselves, or brood and lamented about what they lost. Were the heroes only interesting when they have powers to save the day?

Was that the reason Ichigo didn't see anyone from the other world? Kisuke practically avoided him in every moment he could. He never went to the Shoten after Kisuke argued with him, picking at his insecurities so that he wouldn't return. He almost did. He almost went back and continued but he stopped and thought to himself.

Why did it matter? Why should he go to people who only ever used him?

He could either make new friends or worked on focusing on school.

Ichigo chose the latter.

He's content with the two that stuck to him. Tatsuki hangs out with the three every now and then, when Orihime ditches her to fight Hollows (which is most of the time now).

_ Dust settles, the sacrificed hero is on the gravel./ _

Yes, he sacrificed his powers for the battle. He was cared for during the moments he was unconscious.

And afterwards? He continued to help until his last fight. He continued and pushed himself to his limits until he couldn't fight anymore. His body had been wracked through with so much pain after that last Hollow, but it hadn't compared to the pain of losing his best friend, of watching his best friend fade from his sight.

That pain was similar to being shot through the chest by Ulquiorra. But he endured the pain, sent his best friend off with a goodbye, then tried to live a normal life.

A life he wished for until he realized that it wasn't right. Nothing felt right anymore.

_ Take me to the rooftop, _

He doesn't have a destination in mind. He just wants to clear his head before he spirals into dark thoughts.

He's failed. He's been thinking darkly for a while now. Forcing the thoughts away, Ichigo takes a deep breath for the umpteenth time and decides to head for the river.

The rushing waters typically help calm the tsunami of thoughts that constantly want to pull him into an ocean of darkness.

This is also the best time to go. Sunsets in Kurakara Town is one of the best, especially when you go to the river.

_ Watch as the rain stops. _

Ichigo smiles as he passes through a few spots where he remembers the times with his mother and sisters. Other places hold fond memories of his (old) friends.

The gentle, autumn breeze rolls through, running its fingers through his hair. He feels any worries he held melt away as he makes it to one of the best spots in town. Leaning against the railing, he watches the shadows move and twist, dancing with the rays of sun. A small stream of people bustle on their way, some stopping to admire the view while others return home.

The bridge rarely sees people, usually lonely with the odd one every now and then.

_ No, I was the hero of the story, _

He had been a hero.

It's in the past now.

Ichigo knows that he cannot change what has happened and no matter how lonely he feels, he won't change anything.

_ I never did it for the glory.  _

He will give up his power no matter how many times it's asked of him. He just wishes that his friends never abandoned him. He was never aiming to be a hero. He only wanted to help his friends, keep them safe. Saving everyone else was just an added bonus.

It seems futile. He can't stop thinking. Hopefully, after this, he can focus on his life.

_ I guess it's my turn to say sorry./ _

Ichigo stares out at the sparkling water, smiling as he leans against the railing. Another gust of wind blows through the air, ruffling and caressing his orange locks like a gentle mother calming her child. Everything feels nice.

Since when has he been such a good liar?

Maybe, it's when he started pretending?

It would be so much better if he didn't feel the need to constantly drag himself down.

_ Sorry. _

His eyes sting. That's right. He's sorry. He's become nothing but a burden—that's all he ever was to his friends. His poem. Three times. He apologized in the stanzas. Why did he apologize? Ichigo shouldn't have had to apologize! No. This is the first time he's apologized. The other two times, that wasn't him. Those were lies told by them.

He doesn't have to apologize anymore.

What's there to apologize?

_ There's no way out. _

The male looks down at the water, his smile fading into a contemplative frown. No. He had to apologize. There is something. He's a burden now. But that isn't what he's apologizing for.

If he's going to keep crying like this, then maybe he should figure out a reason why he should apologize. There isn't one, so why is he constantly crying?

Maybe, he can allow himself to cry one last time before pushing everything behind him. Honestly, he's humiliating himself acting like this. No reason to be sorry.

Glancing up at the sky, he sighs. 

_ I was thrown away, _

He had been thrown away and no one had cared. Two-thirds of his soul had been ripped away from him via sacrifice. He had done everything in his power—gave it up—to make sure everyone in his life had been protected. Now, he's nothing but a memory. They'll remember him as someone powerful and heroic. Not an empty shell.

_ will be remembered as the hero of the story. _

He gasps as he feels pain flare in his side. What? Glancing behind him, he can't see anything. Something covers his vision and he's breathing harshly. 

Pressure.

He's forced over the railing, thrown into the soft, cold waves of the river.

_ Maybe, it's time to go down. _

Somehow, he's flipped over in mid air and he stares up at the sky. A faint outline of the culprit is shadowed by the fading sun. Who is that? Why? Why did they do this?

_SPLASH!_

Everything goes black.

_ This is the after story of the hero gone one day./ _


	2. Death and Shattered Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death curls and coils around the children of Life. It waits and waits until it finds the chance to pluck the child. There's no love, no tenderness in the action. Not unless it's peaceful, dying in one's sleep is a blessing. The soul slides right out. Violent deaths is similar to yanking on hair, ripping it out of the scalp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all chose death and I delivered. >:)

Death is all around. It is cold. It is warm. Too warm like a winter's night spent under the covers that trap body heat and kiss the skin with heated breaths. Too warm that one must shift their blankets only to be met with the cold of the night. Too cold with kisses of chilling touch and bites, teeth scraping on the tender flesh. Death is the blanket of cold and warmth, wrapping and binding a soul and guiding it into the afterlife.

The cloak of cold and warmth tear at the soul's body in different ways, pulling it every which way as if confused where to take it. It is not peaceful, too loud and too quiet. Trapped in never-ending darkness. Peaceful deaths are a blessing compared to violent deaths.

Unbeknownst to most, already shattered souls splinter with no pain and disappear without a trace. Fragments linger, watching the world and only anchored until forgotten by the living. These echoes latch onto their loved ones who mourn and remember.

The moment the body gives up on the soul, no longer strong enough to keep tight on the chains, it lets go and allows the soul freedom. Some souls are fortunate.

Others are not.

Those with shattered souls, cannot reincarnate, move on.

No.

They simply disappear, leaving fragmented echoes.

Death curls and coils around the children of Life. It waits and waits until it finds the chance to pluck the child. There's no love, no tenderness in the action. Not unless it's peaceful, dying in one's sleep is a blessing. The soul slides right out. Violent deaths is similar to yanking on hair, ripping it out of the scalp. Death does not discriminate, it takes who it wants and no one can do anything but complain and question _why? why? why?_ Scream and cry, but death won't listen to childish pleas.

Kurosaki Ichigo is an unfortunate soul.

He lived and loved, protected and cared.

He loved like a candle.

Loved with burning passion.

Loved until it killed.

He lived as one should.

Lived with a smile.

Lived until it hurt.

He protected everything he could.

Protected with open arms

Protected until giving up.

He cared for so long.

Cared with radiant mirth

Cared until breaking down.

Yes, Kurosaki Ichigo was an unfortunate soul, whose life was beautiful in the way only a tragic story could be. Pain born from having loved, left alone when he had protected, pushed away when he had cared, and died when he could have happily lived. He had a heart too full and slowly drained, giving pieces when it was emptied.

Death is cruel.

It doesn't mean to be, but that makes it all that much crueler.

Hitting the water, his soul slips without any awareness. No pain. No suffering. One could believe it to be peaceful. It's only like this because his soul isn't intact. Once the soul slipped out, it dispersed with no one all the wiser.

* * *

Kurosaki Yuzu's spiritual awareness and ability was never strong. While she may not be able to see spirits clearly like her siblings, it didn't mean she's blind to the other world. She always had a sense of death, always known when it will happen since it's like a cold chill passing through her own body. There's always a faint outline that covers a person.

No, she's never been able to see ghosts.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't see anything.

Fragmented souls linger in their world. Small pieces of people who never had the chance to pass on. She sees them hanging around. They're beads no bigger than the pad of her thumb. They glow white, hovering around the air and never shifting. She sees and she is a witness.

Some are good.

Doesn't mean all.

She's at her friend's home when the sense of dread weighs in her stomach. At first, it's barely noticeable but she has a feeling of something being wrong. First it wraps around her shoulders like a cloak, then it travels down to the pit of her stomach and gets comfortable. As the time trudges on, it grows heavier.

Finally, it explodes in a fury of cold and ice.

Most of the time, it's subtle as the deaths are strangers.

Those she cares about, on the other hand . . .

She cries out.

Faintly, she can hear her friends asking her questions.

They go ignored as her arms wrap around herself, her body coiling inwards with a choke sob. She hasn't dealt with this feeling since Mom—

That's wrong.

She's felt this many times in the past year, but not this pressing, not this cold. Her brother had gotten hurt, has _died_ and she felt all of that.

But the feeling lasted less than an hour and she would find him later, alive and well.

No. She has no hope this time.

Cold, biting and sharp.

She feels as if she's been stabbed multiple times and it _hurts_.

_Nii-san._

She scrambles to her feet, blindly searching for her phone. She must look crazy to her friends, but she can't explain it. She'll break down with sobs if she tries to explain.

Yuzu calls her brother five times and is sent straight to the operator. _This number is not in service._

Her heart shatters.

Karin picks up on the second ring. Yuzu doesn't giver her the chance to speak, barreling forward as she rushes out of her friend's home, "Nii-san! Nii- _hic_ -san! Have—ha-ha—have you spo—spuh-spoken to N-n-Nii-san?" Her voice is frantic, incoherent but her sister must know what she's talking about, right?

Karin is silent, allowing her sister to get it out and to process the question. _"Yuzu? Is everything okay?"_

A laugh bubbles in her throat. How can she ask such a ridiculous question when something's happened? Where's Nii-san? How can she be okay when she doesn't know? She's in hysterics, crying and laughing because she feels so _cold_ yet so _numb_. Nii-san is somewhere and he won't answer his phone and she feels worse than when Mom died.

_"Yuzu, what's wrong? You're worrying me. What about Ichi-nii?"_

"Karin! Where is he?" she yells into the phone, not caring how hysterical she must sound to bystanders. She sobers long enough to speak, to get her sister to listen. "I have a bad feeling. I—" And she cuts off. A pale, white orb bobs in the air before her. Eyes wide, tears resurfacing at the implication of what this small ball of light means. She hangs up on her sister, ignoring the questions from her twin, immediately following the ball that flees from her. _No. No, please. This, this has to be a mistake._

_A coincidence._

Sirens are the first thing she hears upon getting closer to the river. The small orb flits between people, leading her closer with a frantic air.

Arriving to the scene, she understands immediately. Spotting a tuft of orange, so prominent and eye-catching there was no way she could have missed it. _No._

 _"No!"_ she cries out, pushing past the tape. "Nii-san!" Her breath comes out in gasps, vision blurring at the sight of her brother. _That's her brother!_ "Nii-san!" Strong arms wrap around her tiny body, pulling her back. Immediately, she struggles and tries to break free. _That is her brother! Why are they trying to keep her away?_ "Nii-san!"

"Miss. Miss, please, you can't get close."

"That's my older brother," she argues, not wanting to stay back. Her body wracks with heart-wrenching sobs, her awareness fading as she zeroes in on her brother's body. Zipping the bag closed cemented the fear and reality crashes down on her.

Her name is being called, someone is beside and trying to get her to respond. She doesn't, pushing them away and pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as everything crashes down on her and her world becoming bleak and dreary. Her brother is gone, she felt it and she was too late. She hadn't seen him in two days, hadn't spoken to him at all. Now, he's gone and she'll be alone.

Everything passes in a blur and she barely registers the questions being asked or if she even answered them. Who's here? Who keeps trying to talk to her? Why won't they save her brother?

_Gone._

_Dead._

_He's dead._

_She felt his death._

The glowing orb hasn't left, floating beside her without any haste or frantic actions. It's patient with her. Reminds her of—

Her father—she faintly registers—is kneeling in front of her, asking her to come back. At least, she thinks that's what he's saying. If it is, why ask her? Why not ask Ichigo? He has to come back. Why can't he come back? Why doesn't he care about Ichigo as much as he cares about them? Maybe, maybe if he did, Nii-san—Maybe Nii-san would still be with them.

The thought brings about another round of tears. It surprises her. Hasn't she cried enough?

Apparently not.

She can already hear Nii-san's teasing remarks while pressed against his warm chest.

Too bad that won't ever happen again.

Never again will she feel his arms around her.

Never again will she hear his voice.

Never again will she cook for him, see him, or even scold him.

All that's dead and gone, and she's alone in an empty home.

Her dad's barely around.

She doesn't even know what Karin does or where she goes. She's tired.

She wonders if this is what Nii-san felt every day. She was at home more than the other two but even then, she barely crossed paths with her brother. She'd cook and bake with him every now and then, but most of the time, she spent the time with her friends or studying for tests.

Finally, once alone in her room, she looks forlornly at the glowing orb that awaits her touch. Reaching out to touch the orb, she closes her eyes and allows the warmth wash over her.

 _She watches fragments of her brother's life, the ones attached to this small ball of light._ _She watches everything from the beginning of his high school year up to his death. Some pieces are longer than others but she's able to discern that those seem to be more important._

_Her brother. Her older, kind brother had been living a double life and she's never noticed. He had died multiple times and still came back to them._

_She watches as he stands strong against his opponents despite being_ scared _. Scared of losing control of the monster inside him. She watches as the girl he went to rescue looks on with fear for wearing a mask. Watches as he gets a hole blown through his chest. Watches as he comes back a monster and stabs his friend with his sword. How he comes back to his senses and gets overwhelmed with grief of what he did, only to force it away so that he can win a war. Learning along the way that their father—their useless_ father— _kept so many secrets from them and taught him a dangerous trick to defeat an enemy that was never Ichigo's._

_Those wretched Shinigami used him until his soul fractured. Then, they threw him away._

_Because of them, her brother is gone without a chance of reincarnation. He's going to be gone forever. She feels heat burning in her chest, growing along with her hate._

_"Yuzu," says a warm and loving voice, belonging to only one person. A choked sob is the response he gets_ _. The teen smiles down at her, cupping her cheeks with cold hands (they used to be so warm) and rubbing his thumbs over her wet cheekbones_ _. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Yuzu."_

 _"Nii-san," she cries, wrapping her arms around him. "You shouldn't be the one apologizing._ _You did what you thought was right! They left you, nii-san._ _"_ _She cries against his chest. "How could they? They used you! You won't be able to enter the reincarnation cycle for a long time or ever again!"_

 _Her brother looks at her with such sad eyes that she feels like this isn't her brother, but he_ is _and that makes it all the worse. "I guess Karin and I aren't the only ones with a special ability. I should have realized."_

 _"I_ chose _not to tell you, nii-san." She doesn't let go despite knowing she needs to. "Dad—he . . . How could he? You didn't deserve to be there. He wasn't—that man wasn't your enemy! You shouldn't have had to have fought him."_

_"Yuzu, listen to me, okay? If I hadn't, you and Karin would have gotten hurt. I couldn't allow that. I'm sorry, Yuzu. I don't have much time. I love you and Karin so much. Please, don't lose hope. I want you to keep going. Don't forget about me but don't let me memory hold you down. Okay? I have to go."_

_"It's not true! Please. Tell me you're lying, nii-san. I don't want you to go! Don't leave me alone!"_

_Ichigo smiles his soft and loving smile, kissing her forehead. "I love you, Yuzu. My precious little sister, goodbye." And he fades away with those words._

Gasping, the feeling of ice water being poured onto her brings her to awareness. The orb of light fades and takes with it the last bits of her brother. Heart wrenching sobs wrack through her body, her fingers gently grazing over the spot where his lips had been.

Her brother is gone.

It hurts.

She wants to disappear but can't.

Nii-san, why?

_Can someone tell me what to do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy ending? I don't know her.
> 
> So, I don't make happy endings apparently. Whoops. (<.<) (>.>)
> 
> Will add the alternate ending later.

**Author's Note:**

> This might be weirdly written and all over the place, but it's to resemble Ichigo's mental state. He's all over with his emotions, unsure how to deal with any of it. This is an ambiguous/open ending unless you all want another chapter.
> 
> Yes, you can vote.
> 
> Death?
> 
> No death.
> 
> Questions?
> 
> Comments.


End file.
